


Incubation Period

by EvilMuffins



Category: Dangan Ronpa, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, background junkomiki in a dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-25 09:05:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17722235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilMuffins/pseuds/EvilMuffins
Summary: “Hmm…” Komaeda twisted a lock of fluffy hair around his finger as he thought. “I never really had a cold as a kid, so I’m still not sure what kind of medicine you’d need…”“You were never sick before?” Mikan asked, ignoring the burning in her throat. It was hard to imagine. She had been sick all the time as a child. Sleeping outside on a park bench could do that to a person.---Tsumiki falls ill, and dreams of someone from long ago.





	Incubation Period

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nina931](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nina931/gifts).



> Written for the fic-only DR Valentine's exchange!

“...Tsumiki-san?”

Why did Komaeda sound so far away? She wondered. They were still in the same room, after all, cleaning up together in the hotel dining area after breakfast. While Komaeda was strictly and explicitly forbidden from going anywhere near the kitchen, it had been agreed upon that he was still allowed to clean up, provided that he was wholly supervised. It wasn’t as if anyone else wanted the job, and in turn, no one but Mikan would agree to spend any length of time around him in any case.

“Y-yes?” she squeaked, turning around to face him and nearly tipping over the bucket of soapy water in the process.

“You’ve been staring at your own reflection in the bucket for five minutes,” Komaeda pointed out. “I thought you were about to fall over right into it.”

Mikan blinked. She hadn’t even thought of that. Lamenting the missed opportunity, she set back to work vigorously scrubbing with the mop until that unsightly girl staring vapidly up at her disappeared dissipated from the surface, the water and soap dispersed until nothing was left save for a sparkling clean floor. If only she could pop that actual mole of her’s like a bubble, she thought with a sigh.

“I’m sorry to have worried you, but I’m fine! Really! So, so fine!” Mikan attempted to reassure him, just as the mop handle managed to somehow sail from her grasp and directly into contact with Komaeda’s face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Komaeda chuckled weakly, rubbing at his nose, yet somehow entirely bypassing the thin stream of blood exiting his nostril. “Better me than you! It’s what I deserve, really, for forcing you to keep watch over someone like me.”

“You…” Mikan began, reaching out to guide Komaeda’s hand away from his face in order to get a better look. “You aren’t ‘forcing’ me… I… I, uh, wanted to…”

It was the truth. Mikan wasn’t above saying things that were less than reflective of the reality of her situation at times (‘ _I tripped!’, ‘It was an accident!’, ‘I’m sorry!’)_ but she truly wasn’t against spending time with Komaeda, despite how he had acted during the trial. He was attentive toward her, at the very least, even if she did tend to wonder if was secretly mocking her with the mountains of effusive praise that had been thrown her way during their past hour together. Either way, Mikan didn’t particularly dislike it, even if she wasn’t inclined to agree.

Holding a steadying hand to Komaeda’s cheek, Mikan attempted to check for injuries, but the gray-green eyes swimming in and out of focus in front of her made it tricky.

“Tsumiki-san?”

Komaeda was underwater again…  swimming… drowning in the sea…

“Tsumiki-san! Hey! _Someone, come quick!_ "

* * *

 

How could she ever have forgotten? Hair like the sun, and a smile straight from the deepest depths of Hell…

_My beloved…_

_My beloved!!_

_Listen!_

_Wait!_

_I’m coming, my love!!_

Hell was cold.

The hand on her cheek was warm, and Mikan leaned into the touch that she craved for so long. ...But somehow, it felt different, foreign, fingers less cruelly delicate with the whole world wrapped around them.

_Oh._

So Komaeda hadn’t washed away to sea, bobbing along in a bucket of tears after all.

Although the hand hadn’t belonged to the person she had seen and felt so clearly while adrift in sleep, Mikan didn’t think that she minded the touch. ...But who was it that had she thought was there to comfort her? Suddenly, she couldn’t recall, save for a lingering notion of longing.

A shiver coursed through her body then, and the hand withdrew, leaving Mikan even for colder for the lack of precious body heat.  

“You were out for a long time,” Komaeda said gently, scooting off the edge of the bed in order to stand, making his way toward the washroom. They were in her cottage, Mikan realized. “To be completely honest, I was sort of hoping that you’d be out for just another minute or two. I’m sorry my worthless face had to be the first thing you saw.”

“No, no-” Mikan tried to argue, but her throat rasped, feeling little better than if she had swallowed a cup full of broken glass.

Emerging from the tiny bathroom with a damp washcloth in hand, Komaeda explained, “You passed out while we were cleaning up the dining area. Do you remember?”

Mikan nodded, hoping that would suffice.

“I carried you back here,” Komaeda admitted, and Mikan felt a pang of guilt. He shouldn’t have to feel guilty for helping someone in trouble- someone weaker than himself-even if she hadn’t deserved it. Helping the weak felt exhilarating, Mikan knew. They had to be thankful, had to listen and take her advice or they wouldn’t get better… a sickly patient couldn’t simply get up and leave her…

“I was able to get the others, and they drew straws to see who would take care of you first,” he continued, apologetically. “Hinata-kun said that I was forbidden from ever drawing straws again, but somehow I won even though I never put in.” Komaeda shrugged, and Mikan wondered how such a thing was possible, even given his strange luck.

Standing at her bedside, Komaeda handed her the cool cloth. “I was actually just about to head for the pharmacy before you woke up, but to be perfectly honest, I wasn’t sure what to get… Can you tell me if you think it’s just a cold, or something else? I’d never forgive myself if my luck somehow got you bit by a mosquito carrying some tropical disease!” He laughed humorlessly in that strange, sandpaper-like way of his.

“It’s...just a cold… I think,” Mikan managed, hoping that she spoke the truth, while at the same time realizing how much she had sounded like Nanami in using that phrase. How the other girl could speak with such uncertainty, yet still carry herself with confidence, Mikan had no idea. Komaeda was somewhat similar, she thought. So certain in his bubble of perceived worthlessness.

“Hmm…” Komaeda twisted a lock of fluffy hair around his finger as he thought. “I never really had a cold as a kid, so I’m still not sure what kind of medicine you’d need…”

“You were never sick before?” Mikan asked, ignoring the burning in her throat. It was hard to imagine. She had been sick all the time as a child. Sleeping outside on a park bench could do that to a person.

That laugh again. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Mikan didn’t pursue the matter further. It would be nice, she thought, if they could have time to get to know one another under better circumstances.

“I...I don’t need anything, really.” It wasn’t as if she were unused to pain. “I’d, um… I’d…” _God, she was so selfish_ …

“You want me to stay?” Komaeda’s brows raised high enough that Mikan thought he could surely dust the ceiling with them as he blinked in surprise.

“I’m sorry!” It was clear that he was only headed for the pharmacy in order to escape her insufferable presence.

“I don’t mind,” Komaeda said, “It’s just that I don’t think there’s really anything I can do for you here. The SHSL Nurse dying from the common cold would be more irony than I care to deal with right now.”

 _Was that a joke?_ Mikan wondered, as another chill ran over her.

“A blanket… if it’s not too much trouble…” She spoke without thinking, immediately regretting it. Were there any spare blankets in their cabins? Given the climate of tropical islands, she didn’t think so.

Dutifully, Komaeda began to search, with Mikan growing guiltier by the moment, the underlying thrill of being fussed over only fueling her turmoil.

“I’m probably just too incompetent to find it,” Komaeda admitted, after searching the room, “but I don’t see one anywhere around here… So, er, if you'd please forgive me for what I’m about to do instead…”

Sitting back down on the edge of the bed again, quickly as if afraid to lose his nerve, Komaeda curled up next to her.

_Warm… so warm…_

Closing her eyes, Mikan tried to think back to the girl from her dream… her ‘beloved’... Had they ever lay together like this? Somehow, she hadn’t thought so...

 


End file.
